Dead Roses And Moonshine
by C.Teden
Summary: Bethyl AU. Beth Greene finds herself lost in a world suddenly turning into a nightmare. Daryl has always lived that nightmare, and maybe he can ignite the spark of hope in Beth's shattering soul. No apocalypse.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello, and welcome. This is C. Teden, throwing a poorly-written fanfic your way. I've been trying to work on how I write stuff, like descriptions and not overusing words. So here it is._

_I've always been a bit down about how I write, in fact there are quite a few fanfictions I have written that I didn't publish out of fear that someone will say it's shit. But I need to get over that._

_I don't usually like AUs, particularly ones where there isn't a zombie apocalypse when the story the fiction is based on is about a zombie apocalypse. I have MonDieu666 to thank for that. Their Spiced Molasses story really tugged at my heart strings._

_I own nothing *cries into pillow because I have nothing to call my own*_

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><p>Chapter 1- The First Chapter<p>

The moonlight was so delicate that night, it deserved to be appreciated. But Daryl Dixon wasn't the man for the job. As he sped off down the highway in his brother's jeep, he couldn't stop the anger surging through his veins. Another conquest involving a drunken Merle and a pissed off bartender. It couldn't have been more of a nuisance. Daryl was finally getting alone time with his thoughts, he could clean up their dilapidated trailer without snarky remarks from Merle. He could shower without the "who you tryin'a impress, Darylina?"  
>Daryl could only get as far as a freezing shower with no soap, and a drunken call from Merle came hurling his way. Still soaked, he threw on his clothes and set off in the old jeep that had miraculously survived three years with Merle Dixon. When he arrived at this small town in the middle of nowhere, he was stopped by a woman. She looked worried.<br>"S'cuse me, sir." She called out, even though he was barely a meter away from her. She really didn't need to shout.  
>"What you want?" Daryl was surprised with the gruffness of his tone. He could never keep his temper inside, he just had to lash out at everyone. Her brow creased in anguish, but she didn't look angry.<br>"You haven't seen this girl around here, have you?" She replied, tossing him a photo of a smiling girl.  
>Daryl waited a few moments before answering, did he see this girl?<br>"Nah, I ain't seen her." He paused in thought, studying the picture for a beat before handing it back over. "She looks a little young to be outside by herself, 'specially at night."  
>"Well, take my dad's number. If you see her, please just give us a call?" She offered a weak smile and turned on her heel. Poor woman looked so sad, her laugh lines were fading. He didn't know her story, but something had gone down. Her eyes were glazed over by tears. Her face didn't look like it should be sad. Whoever this girl was, she was pretty damn selfish causing such heartbreak.<br>"Kids runnin' around wild these days. Idiots..." He hissed as he took a turning towards the bar where his brother was most likely overstaying his welcome.

Daryl never realised how much he loathed being inside buildings until he squeezed into this tiny bar on the edge of nowhere. How Merle found this place would be a story nobody would know. Merle wouldn't even know on account of his drunken state. There'll be a tale to tell, though. A bar fight, a 'lucky' prostitute, a stupid tattoo. Luckily there wasn't a tattoo parlour in this town, or hookers. It was far too pleasant for his liking. Daryl cleared his throat to catch the attention of the bartender, who looked worn out. Anyone dealing with Merle always compared him to a sugar-rushed kid.  
>"Is Merle here?" Nothing. "Baldin', causin' a lotta trouble."<br>"Thank God you're here! He passed out in the booth over there. He's been harassin' customers ever since he got here!" the sheer relief rushing through the bartender's face was endearing. Daryl had gotten used to being the sensible Dixon, people would respect him for helping. It was like he was doing his bit for the community.  
>He turned away from the bar, catching sight of the unconscious Merle. As he strode towards the booth, he forced all of his anger to the back of his mind. When left to his own devices, Merle was like Armageddon. Having to babysit your older brother, who was a grown man, was embarrassing. He emitted the stench of booze, the smell all too familiar of their father. Daryl shook his head, as if he was literally shaking the thoughts out of his mind.<br>"Come on, Merle. We're gettin' outta here." Daryl huffed as he dragged his brother out of the bar. The fucker was heavier than the last time they had to do this. He threw open the back passenger door, and stuffed Merle in the Jeep. He slumped to the side, only stirring a little from the disturbed sleep. Daryl knew this night would end in a fight if Merle woke up, he was unusually stronger and more aggressive when drunk. Just like their father...  
>He drove away from the bar, letting it become just another memory left behind them. Hopefully Merle wouldn't want to go back there. He held onto Merle's wallet, and leafed through the old leather flaps. No money at all.<br>"$200 in one night?" Daryl couldn't decide where to be impressed or ashamed. He worked for that money, it was supposed to keep them alive for the next month. Back to hunting squirrels and deer for food. Back to being dehydrated all the time. Daryl couldn't take more of living like this. His thoughts wandered back to the woman looking for that girl, but he had no idea why... Until it hit him.

Just a mile back he saw the girl.

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><p><em>I'm sorry you just read that crap. I probably wasted your time. Please review to tell me what you think!<em>


	2. Chapter 2

_'Sup homies. It's me again with another chapter of DRAM. Initials make it cuter and it's not long-winded to say. Don't expect updates to be this great, I was just so grateful for the reviews I had to post another chapter._

_I spent the whole day gushing over those lovely reviews! I woke up early for college feeling overtired and ill, but it still didn't kill my buzz. Even having to work in a group that day in class (which I hate more than life itself) didn't ruin my great mood. So thank you all for reviewing so nicely, it made my day... Well, the past two days. I'm still really happy right now._

_Let's get back to Daryl's car ride... OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH_

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><p>Chapter 2- All Hail The Taxi Driver<p>

He didn't know why it hadn't hit him straight away. Daryl was always alert, ready to attack when necessary. His hero complex dragged him back to where he saw the girl. The woman didn't deserve to go through any more pain than needed. He would take this girl back to them. Merle would have straight up mocked him if he was conscious. A short while after his revelation, he caught sight of the missing girl. She was walking beside the road, heading out of the town. She had no bags, not even a coat, so she couldn't have been leaving. Her feet moved so lifelessly, as if she were a zombie. He couldn't help but notice how different she looked in the picture. Instead of a face lit up by a smile, she looked completely dejected. Glassy blue eyes unfeeling, unfocused as if she were completely lost in her thoughts. Milky skin paler than the photo. Dark circles around her eyes.

"Hey." Daryl half-yelled. The girl didn't react to him, so he called again.

She turned but she didn't look him in the eye.

"I'm sorry, sir." She was polite, but the emotionless tone in her voice was too prominent to ignore. "Can I help you with anythin'?"

"Get in the car, your family's lookin' for ya." Daryl offered, swinging the passenger door open. He instantly cringed when he realised how this looked. "Stranger danger" carouselled through his mind.

Her face didn't change, but her eyes were defiant.

"No." She stammered, sounding too kind to be rude. She swiftly turned away from the car and continued walking.

"What yer doin' is pretty damn selfish right now." Frustration swelled inside him, he hated trying to help but getting it thrown back in his face. "That woman asked me about you. What is she; your sister? Y'all shoulda seen her face. She's worried about ya. She don't know if yer alive or dead. If I had someone who cared like that for me, I wouldn't be takin' it for granted."

The girl stood completely still, and turned to him with thoughtful eyes. She looked like she was going to cry. Without a word she slid into the passenger seat and shut the door.

As he drove off, he could sense awkwardness in the air. The girl was probably wondering what she got herself into; sitting in a redneck's jeep with a drunk in the backseat who may or may not be breathing.

"Your sister never told me your name..."

She rested her head against the window, staring out into the woods.

"Beth."

Twenty minutes later Daryl parked outside the Greene family farm. Beth glared at the house with hatred, she knew Maggie would yell at her, her daddy would pry. She began shifting in her seat as Daryl got out of the car. She was itching to simply bolt out of the car, but she was sure she couldn't outrun a grown man. After a dramatic sigh, Daryl opened the door for her.

"You comin' or what?"

Beth could feel the tears gathering in her eyes, the fear of facing her family after she ran off. She slid out of the car, momentarily taking in the same view she saw everyday. She couldn't physically regard the man that had brought her back home: she avoided eye-contact, didn't speak much. Daryl took the lead, heading towards the large farmhouse. Beth caught sight of a curtain shifting from the living room, and shortly the entrance door burst open. Maggie was sprinting towards the two, face contorted with relief and anger. Her father hobbling on a pair of crutches behind the eldest sister.

"Bethany Josephine Greene!" Maggie shrieked, fists clenched. If Beth didn't know any better, she would've thought she'd be getting punched in the face. As Maggie neared, Beth rushed in to hug her, letting her sobs drown into her sister's shoulder. All madness melted from Maggie's face as she pulled her tighter.

"I'm so sorry!" Beth cried, her voice muffled against Maggie's sweater.

"It's alright, Bethy."

The older man hobbled over, and gave Daryl a kind look which mostly resonated from his eyes.

"who is this, Beth?" His mouth told a different story. Though, when he looked at Beth, his hopes were validated. She was fine.

"Let's just get her inside. She's freezin'!"

Maggie threw Daryl a grateful smile, and walked back towards the house, with Beth in tow. Hershel stood there for a short while, taking in the disheveled redneck who brought his daughter home. It confused him.

"Thank you for all your help. Take this." Hershel pulled a small roll of cash from his pocket. "For your troubles."

"S'alright. Don't need your charity." Daryl countered, surprised and unhappy with how sharp his tone was. Probably because of the stress building up over the day.

"I insist."

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><p><em>Did I get Hershel right? I tried to create a conflicting gratefulness in him when he first meets Daryl. He's stuck between being happy that his daughter is back home, but suspicious of the man who brought her back to them. Judging a book by its cover like we all do... But yeah.<em>

_Also with Maggie, I want her to have that mother/sister relationship with Beth. Like my older sister patronises me a lot of the time, it's like that. Acting more like a parent because she's the older sibling. I probably get these wrong, so I'll say they may be OOC or something._

_Reviews are better than drugs._


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey! It's me again... I didn't update for a while. Mainly because I want to get into a habit of writing way ahead of submitting. I'm on chapter 9 right now, but I was a little uninspired for a while, but The Walking Dead Season premiere brought it back. Like, how good was it? Carol being a badass. The family reunion. Tyreese being an adorable yet murderous carer for little Judy. The hugs all around. The big twist with the Termites actually being good once upon a time. Daryl's face when he knows Beth won't be coming out of that small building with Tyreese and Judith. Sadness all around. Looking forward to getting to watch it tomorrow (I record it twice in the same day because I'm very precautious)._

_Also, before I forget; I'm aware that Beth and Maggie have a brother called Shawn. Before starting this story I was dead set on what his role in the fic will be. I was going to explain his absence and all that (because I'm not familiar with his personality as he died before we could get to know him) but then it's come to chapter 9 and I completely forgot to mention him. Just pre-warning that he will be relevant to the story._

_Another Also: I love the reviews. I got one I think yesterday? From I-Am-The-Peel. Dude! I've been following you as an author (and not in a stalker way) for well over a year now! It's your Saints Row stories that I've enjoyed! Thanks for your review! It means a lot that I've actually managed to keep up with Daryl and his awkward personality. He reminds me of myself in so many ways. So cagey about everything. Back-peddling when people get too close. And also I thought I got Hershel totally wrong! He talks so... Godly. It's difficult when I'm trying to get his Southern accent in there too._

_This chapter's longer than the previous ones, but I'm not sure if that's because I write so much in the ANs..._

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><p>Chapter 3- Concern<p>

It was $50. Daryl's apparent kindness rewarded him. It was strange. Being considerate was a weakness according to the Dixons, and weakness was something Daryl learned to avoid over the years. But it felt good to help someone for a change. He didn't need to expect a tremendous beating for being weak; he could bask in the glory of being a decent human being. He couldn't bring himself to use that money. He didn't want to lose the evidence of his selflessness, so he kept it hidden in the trailer. Under his mattress. Somewhere Merle would never find it, he couldn't ever steal it away from him. Merle was even looking for money the very next morning... Well, afternoon. He wanted to go out on another bender, but didn't have his brother's hard-earned cash to spend.

"I'm gonna make some calls. Martinez'll have something goin' for good ol' Merle." He chuckled through his hangover, searching weakly for his cellphone. Martinez was Merle's friend, he was an entrepreneur of sorts. Dealing drugs, women, pirated movies, even hitmen. Daryl tried to stay out of that crowd, but would end up selling drugs in the local towns just to get by. He was a pro at swerving the cops' observant eyes. He didn't want a life like that; watching your back all the time, committing crimes out of necessity and thrill. Daryl knew how pathetic it was to be keeping something that could keep Merle out of trouble, or feed them. It would have been wise to use it for actual purposes. But it was probably the first thing he had earned out of doing good. He hadn't been expecting a reward for finding that girl, it was just about getting her home. The sunlight coursed through the dirty window, regretfully brightening the inside of the trailer. Daryl didn't get to clean much the day before.

"I'm takin' the bike. Got an errand to run." Merle flashed a devilish grin at his younger brother, and stormed out of the trailer. No matter how much he disliked his brother, Daryl respected how well Merle could handle his hangovers. He certainly didn't get it from their father. Daryl couldn't help this strange tune emitting a whistle from his lips as he made a sordid attempt to clean himself. Marks of dirt still loomed over his arms and face, clothes still filthy. His mind wandered to the Greene family again for the billionth time that day.

What was that girl doing that night? Why did she look so lifeless, like one of those undead... What was the word for it? Corpses rising from the dead and eating people... Walkers? Biters? Why didn't they explain why he found her in the middle of nowhere? Why was her sister so angry? So many questions that he wouldn't find the answers to. Unless... It wasn't in his nature to pry, but he deserved to know what was going on. He tugged his sleeveless leather jacket over his shoulders- the one with the angel wings sewed on the back- and made way for Merle's jeep. The smell of alcohol and maybe vomit was hanging in the air, from Merle's habits a few night before. The drive was smooth-ish until he reached the zig-zag path to the Greene farm. In the daylight it looked even more like paradise. A whole area of land surrounded by a dense forest to shut out the world. Horses whinnying in the distance. House fit for a king. The Greene family had it great here.

"Um... Hello?" A voice knocked Daryl straight out of his pleasant reverie. It was Maggie Greene. Her eyes were puffy and sad, short hair tied back. Her voice sounded scratchy. Daryl remained silent for a short while to figure out what he was actually here for.

"Yeah... I'm Daryl. You prob'ly don't remember me-"

"Of course I do. I'd never forget the man who brought my sister back home!" He could tell Maggie was trying to keep her voice calm, but she was accidentally shouting. "Come in. I'm sure my dad would like to talk to you."

"I'm not plannin' on stayin' long. Just wanted to know... What the hell is goin' on."

Now was Maggie's turn to be silent. She fixed a hard stare on him, which faltered in defeat.

"Come on in then. I'm sure my dad'll wanna see you anyway."

Why was this family so damn secretive? Daryl followed Maggie into the house, trying not to gawp at how cheesy it looked. Not how he would decorate a utopia. Maggie stopped inside the living room, and slumped down in a seat. Daryl stood at the doorway, awkwardly turning his head to the older man staring back at him.

"Maggie and Beth... Eventually told me about what you did. I'm sorry I misjudged you." Hershel spoke carefully, his eyes red like his daughter's. Daryl was doubting it was a genetics thing. What was going on?

"S'alright. Happens a lot." He replied quickly. He had to wave it off every time someone did it.

"Is there a reason in particular why you're here?"

Daryl seemed at a loss for words. He wasn't entirely sure why he was there.

"I... Uh, just wanted to know what's goin' on. Why this kid was walkin' out of town in the dark."

Hershel sniffed, still not taking his gaze off Daryl.

"You have a right to know..." He exhaled as he spoke. "We lost my wife a couple of months back. Beth didn't take it very well."

Hershel stopped talking, just breathing unevenly.

"We don't know what's wrong with her..."

Beth wasn't exactly sleeping. Her eyes were closed, she wasn't moving. But she was awake, and could hear what was going on. The voices were loud, but not enough for her to understand what they were talking about. It wasn't like she cared anyway. The sun snaked through the dark fuchsia curtains, leaving a trail of light shredding the room in half. Beth wanted to just get up and close the gap between the two curtains, but she couldn't move. She could barely think about what was going on. Her momma was dead. And it was all her fault. She squeezed her eyes shut, as if that would block out her memories. Life didn't quite work like that. If only... That fatal memory was tattooed on her mind, every detail etched on her consciousness. She could just sleep it away, give her body rest. So she did.

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><p><em>So... Daryl's obsessing over money because it means more to him than something to spend. He's freaked out by the behaviour of a certain lady. Bit of an explanation as to why Beth's being such a walker. I'm not sure if this is an easter egg, but Daryl's trying to find the word for how she's acting. It refers to how in the show they don't call them zombies. I thought it was a smart idea at the time... Shut up.<em>

_Hope you enjoyed it!_

_I should mention that I'm from the UK, so I watch TWD a day later than the US. So please refrain from spoilers. I'll happily fangirl out with others on the following Tuesday. Also, you must listen to Emily's music. I love Julie, especially when getting the bus to college. Other than when I'm guiltily listening to Anaconda by Nicki Minaj. That song is catchy as hell._

_Oh my gosh... Look at her butt..._

_Becky needs to get some new friends. Ones that don't judge a person based on the size of their booty._

_Rambling over!_

**_Yet another ALSO! How come there are constant breaks between dialogue? I've tried fixing it but nothing works! It looks like I've written way too many paragraphs when that's not the case! If anyone has some form of advice I'd greatly appreciate it. _**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4- Here We Go Again

_Well, well, well... Look what we have over here. Another chapter of DRAM! Please hold your applause, I need to be a little bit more pretentious before the chapter begins (blood orange, anyone?). Just kidding, I'm well aware of how bad this story is right now._

_I'll start off by saying Beth is still out of character right now, but don't you worry your pretty little faces. She'll go back to normal at some point. However I won't explain why she's OOC right now because I'm really annoying and enjoy adding too much mystery to my stories._

_Also I had an assignment due today at college which I didn't get finished in time. So I'll only be able to get a Pass at the most, which sucks. That almost put me in a bad mood, but then I remembered The Walking Dead was back on today! And Daryl was in total Beth mode! Then Carol was hit by a car... And I'm really tired and want to go to sleep but no... I'm one of those people that will do anything except sleep. It's three in the morning and after posting this I'll probably read some Bethyl Fanfiction then curse myself for staying up too late._

_Enough with the rambles. On with le DRAM._

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><p>Chapter 4- Here We Go Again<p>

Daryl squirmed under the expectant gaze of Merle Dixon. His older brother could be intimidating, especially when he was prying for information.

"C'mon, lil brother. Where were ya this mornin'?"

"Ain't none of ya business!" Daryl spat with frustration. He didn't want Merle to know about what he did. It would only result in merciless teasing. But the Dixon's never let anything drop, unless it was on their own terms.

"Ya gettin' cagey 'bout it. See, I know somethin' happened." Merle teased. While they may have been very distant towards one another; Merle could read Daryl like a road sign.

"It's nothin' important." He reasoned, eyes averting to the cigarette between his fingers.

Merle was too interested in this. "Was it a broad?"

"No!"

"A guy?"

"NO!"

"Alrighty then. It musta been somethin' embarrassin'." The signs Merle was letting the matter drop were clear, but he would bring it up again. Daryl couldn't help but dislike his brother.

The Georgia sun beat down on the small town without mercy. Daryl felt his skin starting to burn under the heat.

"Last one." He called to the owner of the bar, while lugging another box of alcohol into the back room.

"Great... Now, I gotta dash. Wife's chewin' my ear off about this coffee table or somethin'. Your money's in the drawer." The suited man stressed as he left the room. Indeed, the money was there, but not the amount they agreed on.

"50 fuckin' bucks? Son of a bitch!" Daryl shoved the cash in his pocket and cast an angry glance across the room. It was definitely better looking than most bars around this area. Cherrywood floors, white walls, crazy paintings hanging everywhere. He could afford this getup for his bar, but not pay his labour? Daryl mumbled venomously under his breath, itching for a cigarette. But the slightest movement caught his eye, as well as the quiet sound of footsteps. He turned around just as a hooded figure grabbed a full box and tore out of the building. Daryl swore at himself for not leaving sooner, and chased after this person. He was in no mood to deal with some idiot. For someone maybe 5"4, they were pretty damn fast. He followed this delinquent into the woods, yelling all kinds of obscenities at them. When they tripped over a stuck out branch in the ground, Daryl couldn't have been happier. As he caught up with then, he furiously pulled down the hood of their jacket. Golden blond hair tumbled down her shoulders, her bright blue eyes shining with mischief and surprise.

"Beth?!"

"Get off me!" Beth yelped, trying to pull free of Daryl's iron grip.

"What the hell are you doin'?" Daryl rasped breathlessly. Then he started sniggering. "Better lock your doors, Beth Greene's come out to rob ya. Can't say I saw that comin'." Despite joking, the bitter undertones of his voice made it sound like an insult.

"I'll scream! I'll... I'll... Scream until someone comes to help me! I will!"

Daryl immediately pulled away, the last thing he needed was this. As Beth made towards the box of booze, Daryl grabbed her wrist.

"That ain't yours, Watcha gonna do with it anyway?"

"I'm gonna use it for it's intended purpose. Now go away." The anger in her face was increasing, but her confidence faded long ago.

Daryl made a face. That man at the bar ripped him off, so he may as well return the favour. "Well, then I'm comin' with ya. I've had a shit day as it is." He picked up the box, and headed deeper into the woods. "C'mon."

Daryl stopped outside the shack he and Merle lived in. It could have looked better, but it was safe and warm. Beth looked at the shack with hidden disgust, obviously it wasn't her scene. She was scared; some stranger taking her out into the woods to get drunk. For all she knew Daryl could be luring her out here to steal her internal organs. But Daryl didn't give off that vibe. He seemed to be a hard-worker, and there was a lot of baggage underneath his tough-guy exterior. And he didn't look like he would cause her any harm.

"Where are we?" Beth asked hesitantly.

"My place."

"Oh..."

It looked pretty run down, certainly not a place for someone to live. Beth stole a quick glance at the man beside her, and it clicked in her brain.

"You took me home a few days ago! You're the man!"

Daryl felt himself cringe under her lingering gaze. "Yeah... What about it?" He shoved open the front door, dropping the heavy box on the counter.

"What's your name?"

He stopped to look at her. The blue of her eyes were impossibly warm, compared to his icy stare.

"Name's Daryl." He paused. "Daryl Dixon."

It wasn't a name he was proud of; if anything he felt ashamed to be a Dixon. All a bunch of no-good rednecks who fight for the hell of it. That wasn't who he wanted to be. The self-fulfilling prophecy seemed to have other ideas.

"... Are you gonna take it or not?" Beth spoke up, holding out a fancy bottle of peach schnapps. It wasn't his favourite, it was barely a drink.

"Ain't nobody's first drink should be peach schnapps." He snatched the box away from her, and set it down on the makeshift dining table.

"Hey. What makes you think I ain't had a drink before?" Beth huffed. She looked as though she was one foot stomp away from a tantrum.

"Yer tryin'a pull out the cork with yer hand... That's how I know." Daryl took that bottle as well, and handed her a jar of clear liquid. She gingerly took a sip, and immediately started coughing. Her face contorted in what looked like pain and disgust wrapped into one emotion.

"How... Can anyone drink this?" She asked incredulously, thinking back to how her father used to be hooked on alcohol. How?!

"Y'ain't a happy drunk..." Daryl noted a couple of hours later. They sat outside the shack, admiring the moonlight and the forest.

"Mm..." She murmured distractedly, staring out into the darkness. "I'm havin' fun, that's all I care about right now. I dunno, I'm feelin' pretty level-headed right now. Things are comin' into perspective a little."

"Watchu mean?" Daryl sent her a questioning gaze. But she shook her head with a lazy smile.

"Never mind."

There was a silence between them. It wasn't awkward, it was comfortable. Daryl took another drink, his mind became an abyss of intoxication and he was starting to feel sleepy.

"I can read you pretty well, you know." Beth stated matter-of-factly. The grin on her face didn't falter. "You've been helpin' me out 'cause you like helpin' others. But your pride won't let you admit it. You're the kind of person to focus on the bad an' not the good. You're cagey."

Daryl gave a half-assed nod, barely paying attention. He liked having someone to talk to that wasn't Merle or some whore Merle decided to bring home. Beth was nice, and hopeful. A great clash with his usual company. Despite her current depressive state, there was something in her that shone brighter than anything Daryl could imagine.

"I probably need to get home soon." Beth shuddered to herself. "I'll see you later, if that's okay?"

Daryl never thought someone would request to see him again. He nodded uneasily. "How're you gettin' home?"

"Maggie's boyfriend. He won't judge my... State." She smiled brightly, but it didn't quite reach her eyes as her smiles did before. As she stumbled away into the horizon, Daryl sat back in self defeat. What the hell was going on?

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><p><em>I wanted to use their drinking thing as like a formal introduction of sorts. This is mainly because I know that people are more honest and social when drunk. My almost-cousin bonded with most of my family by getting them wasted. So... Yeah. I should say here that I don't condone underage drinking in the middle of the woods with a stranger. Unless they turn out to be your soulmate, and you're both entirely fictional.<em>

_I was going to leave it to the next chapter, but I'll just say it here because I know Beth's dreadfully OOC. Remember her main storyline in Season 2? It's basically that, but less openness about feeling suicidal and also she's not catatonic (it's just her mental state that's catatonic at this stage). And it will be delved into a lot more in chapter... Something. It's already written, and this whole thing will tie in with the Bethyl relationship (I hope)._

_Thanks very much for reading! I have a Tumblr account which I do reblog a lot of Bethyl stuff and post updates on DRAM from time to time. It's ParawhoringTeden, I'm too lazy and bad with computers so no link for now. You'll have to excuse the amount of anti-feminist stuff I talk about (before you judge, I have my reasons for being against Feminism) but it's all good. Also I'll go about making a cover for this, as soon as I learn how to stop drawing faces so badly._


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